Bygones
by daisy3853
Summary: In which Logan begs her to say something, and Veronica finally stops running away.


This little thing is for Lucy, who over the past three months has become the greatest living expert on LoVe. She didn't believe that "bygones" really covered it, so here's my take on how that conversation should have gone. It's not really beta'd (except for Lisa who pointed out when I was doing stupid things) so any mistakes you see are probably dumb and definitely mine.

* * *

He walks her up to the front porch, but he's not quite ready to walk away.

"Thank you, Veronica. Nine years of radio silence and yet I still kinda knew, deep down, I could count on you."

Nine years. Had it really been so long? For all the distance she had tried to put between them, it never felt like that far.

"About those nine years…" she says, feeling ashamed for the way she left him, and not for the first time.

"Bygones."

He smiles at her, his old lop-sided grin, and for a moment she almost thinks he's being serious. But then she notices the tightness at the edges of that smile. She sees the pain lingering behind his eyes. Logan has always been very good at hiding from people, but it's been a long time since he could hide anything from her.

"Bygones, my ass. I know I hurt you," she says. "I never really got the chance to tell you how sorry I was for the way I left. It wasn't fair to you."

"If you knew you were hurting me, why'd you do it?" he asks.

"It was a long time ago, Logan. A lifetime ago. I was a different girl back then."

He stares at her for a moment, and the teasing smile completely fades. All she sees is pain. This face… this face she knows well. They loved, sure, but back then what they really did best was hurt each other. Whether intentional or not, Veronica knew exactly how to hurt him. She knew how to cut him so deeply that his pain would match hers and maybe give her a little relief. A few choice words was all it ever took, and then she would see this face, and it would prove to her that he cared.

No matter how fucked up things got or how many times she pushed him away, he would always look at her with those tortured eyes and that furrowed brow, like he couldn't look away even if he wanted to. He never looked at anyone else that way, and it brought out something in her that was ugly and possessive; she loved it. This face was how she knew it would take more than just a goodbye to get away from Logan Echolls. It would take some serious distance and no looking back. Because if she didn't look back, she would never have to see him watching her go.

"You aren't as different as you think you are," he says. His smile returns, and she doesn't like the way it makes her stomach tighten.

"How could you possibly know–"

"Because I know _you_, Veronica," he says, his voice sharp. His smile has that familiar edge of sarcasm. She flinches, and his voice softens again before he continues. "I hadn't talked to you for nine years, but as soon as I saw you at the airport, it was like nothing had changed. I looked at you, and you were you and I was me and we were right back where we left things."

"We've both changed. We've grown up."

"Growing up doesn't change you. Not the essential parts, anyway. Not you and me."

"What are you trying to say, Logan?"

"I'm saying that I would've followed you anywhere," he answers. His voice wavers slightly, and for a moment she feels guilty for making him so vulnerable. "I loved you, Veronica. I loved you before I really understood what loving you meant or what it would do to me. I loved you so goddamn much, and you… you left. You left without saying anything. I would have followed you anywhere you wanted to go, but you left me."

"I know. I didn't want to leave like that, but my life… Neptune… it was swallowing me whole. I didn't like who I was anymore. I had to get out, and I knew if I took you with me, I'd never really leave."

He knows she's telling the truth, and somehow that makes it a little less painful to hear. She's looking at him with those eyes – those eyes that torture him in his memories and in his sleep. She looked at him the very same way, so many times back then – every single time he hurt her. He had spent a lifetime trying to hide his own pain and bury it deep, but he will always be haunted by hers. She could never hide her pain from him.

Everyone thought she was so impenetrable, so strong. But he cut her and she bled, time and time again, and that was how he knew she was still human. If he could still hurt her, she still cared, and even if she would never admit it, he would know. It wasn't healthy and it wasn't fair, but sometimes it was all he had.

"Did you love me?" he asks, barely above a whisper.

"Logan… don't do this."

She's begging him not to go there, not to rip open all the old scars she's tried so hard to heal. She tries to turn away, but this time he's not going to let her run so easily. He grabs her hand to stop her, letting go as soon as she turns to face him. He doesn't want to do any more damage, but he has to know. If he's going to let her go – for God knows how long this time – he needs to know for sure that it wasn't just him.

"It's not a difficult question, Veronica. Did. You. Love. Me?"

For once he can't read her. She's hardened, impenetrable. She's closing herself off again, and he doesn't know if he should be terrified or relieved. Loving this girl almost killed him the first time. When he reaches out for her, he hasn't decided if he's going to pull her closer or push her away and run before his heart can talks him out of it. He never really could push her away, and this time he knows he can't pull her along, either.

Once he started letting himself love her, it was like he had opened a door that could never be closed again. He had spiraled deeper and deeper until he could barely remember what it was like before he loved her. Had he ever not loved her? That notion seems impossible to him now. The instinct is buried so deeply inside of him that even after nine years of thinking she had abandoned him, all he wants to do is protect her. To love her.

His hand on her cheek is gentle, his touch careful. She can feel a roughness there that she remembers despite the years and miles between them. Except now she wonders if these hands are the product of hard work and focus instead of a side effect of his impulsive, violent youth. She wonders, not for the first time, if the Navy was the best place for a boy like Logan. A boy so full of anger and so desperate to unleash it, who maybe only needed someone to give him an appropriate outlet and a sense of purpose.

His body has lost its boyish softness, and she takes a moment to look at him – really look at him. He's all hard lines and rough edges now. His face is thinner, sharper, but somehow it's still _her_ face. It's the one she thinks of when her normal life just isn't quite enough for her. There's a fire in his eyes that makes her blood sing and her heart race. It's the face she sees when she craves something thrilling, something more. She's seen his face more times than she'd care to admit over the last nine years, and every time she did it lit a fire inside of her. He pushed her to be more, to do more, to try harder to forget him and the way he made her feel.

She can't deny that Logan has hurt her, maybe more than anyone else in her life ever has. He has also made her feel more alive than anyone ever could. Being near him makes her heart beat faster and stronger. It makes her walk a little taller and breathe a little deeper. She had almost forgotten this feeling, but one little touch of his hand on her cheek, his fingers brushing along her jaw, and she's a live wire. She might never understand what it is about Logan Echolls that does this to her, but for once that doesn't seem to matter.

"Say something," he says, his voice desperate.

She lifts her hand to where his rests on her cheek, and at first he flinches, as if he expects her to brush it away – to brush him away. Instead she lets her fingers touch his softly, lets them twine together. When she pulls his hand away with hers, it's to guide it to her chest. She covers his hand with hers, pressing them both into her flesh and willing him to feel the wild way her heart beats just because he's near. She dares him to know the answer before she has to say it, because even all these years later it's so hard to speak those words.

But then that was always the problem, wasn't it? No matter how much she loved him, he _needed_ for her to say it. For all his attempts to show the world he was strong and indestructible, Veronica knew the truth. In his heart, Logan was just a boy who wanted desperately to be loved by someone. He needed to know that someone in his life loved him enough to not be ashamed to say it and say it often. He needed someone to love him enough to stay – enough to trust him to love them in return. He needed someone to show him that he was worth loving.

So many people in his life had ended up disappointing him. His mother, his father, his sister, his best friend, his first love… Sometimes Veronica felt she would suffocate under the pressure of being enough to make up for all of it.

Nine years ago, Veronica didn't trust herself to be that person. She didn't trust herself to love him without hurting him or hurting herself. So she did what she did best when things got complicated: she ran. That Veronica was weak and afraid, and too proud to let anyone help pick her up. And this Veronica? She doesn't like that Veronica very much.

"Of course I loved you," she says, tears beginning to slide down her cheeks. "I loved you in a way that never made sense and probably never will. It scared me then and it scares me now, but I don't want to run away anymore."

"I don't think I'd survive if you did." He smiles softly, then carefully brushes away her tears with his fingertips.

"I promise you, Logan," she whispers. "I won't."

"Promises?" he asks, the edge of his mouth easing into a grin. "That's the name of my perfume."

She laughs – tears still glittering in her eyes – and he knows that things will be okay again. Maybe not right now or tomorrow, but whatever this is between them will survive. It might never be normal or easy, but when was life ever going to be easy with Veronica Mars?

He pulls her to him, his arms wrapping around her as if no time has passed at all. She still fits perfectly, her head tucked beneath his chin like it's meant to be there. He feels the moment she admits defeat and just lets herself be held. She relaxes in his arms, and her fists take hold of his shirt, trying to pull him even closer. He missed this. It's familiar yet somehow still feels so new.

Loving Veronica has always been an adventure, and not just because they always tried to fight it so hard. She awakens something inside of him that will never be at rest again. She challenges him like no one else, but she inspires him to challenge himself even more so. She makes him feel alive in ways that fighting for his life through a dogfight at 20,000 feet cannot even begin to. She sets him on fire and watches him burn, and now he understands that she has always burned with him.

Holding her again feels better than he ever imagined it could. He lets himself press a kiss against the top of her head, and a sense of relief washes over him. For the last nine years, Logan has been trying to forget, trying to move on. He told himself that she was better off without him, and that he was better off alone. He had refused to let himself believe he would ever be enough for her. But this Logan?

This Logan is ready to try again.


End file.
